Morals Never Get in the Way of a Hunters Kiss
by RQueens
Summary: Hunters come in different shapes and sizes. Same applies to prey. Where is the line separating the two when two people are native hunters. Featuring the OC class Striker. Reviews welcomes. Flames will be fed to Pyro, for he/she likes them.


A/N: While working on the third chapter to 'Meet the Striker' kinda had this drabble in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own, TF2 belongs to Valve, yadda yadda yadda. Enjoy

RQueens

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Perhaps it was karma. There were times when morals were questioned. But how did morals get mixed into this when there was respawn. There shouldn't be a reason to feel bad for killing people everyday. Nashita should know this. She was friendly with some of the opposing team during off hours. That, however, didn't mean to feel sympathy when you killed someone. Crouched down behind a boulder, the disguised Striker was checking the ammo in her pistol. While formidable with voodoo, modern weapons tended to get the African frustrated when reloading. There was no known time when someone could sneak up on her.

"Well, ain' you a beaut." The accent wasn't unfamiliar. The tone behind it, however…

Glaring up at an opposing Sniper, she hissed, reaching her her blade. The marksman saw this and immediately slammed her, hard mind you, against the boulder. Stars exploded across her vision, stunning the woman long enough for the Sniper to disable the use of her arms and teeth with leather straps he had with him. When she managed to feel some form of normality, she growled in her throat, thrashing about.

"So yer the one who's been causing problems for my team. Been meaning to get a close look at the 'Beast of RED'. Now that I see it's only a freak." A hard flick to her ear made Striker thrash some more. "A shapely one at that." Crouching down to eye level, he grinned, showing his own sharp teeth. "Suppose ya don' mind sparrin' somethin' warm, do ya?" That wasn't the response she wanted to hear. The words had her kicking her uninjured leg out, hoping to get a purchase of her claws on the man. The Sniper merely straddled her, putting more pressure on the bent legs.

Reaching behind him, he produced a weapon that Striker was both envious and loathing of. The Tribalmans Shiv. The hand not holding the blade clamped against the muscles and bones that helped shape the more noticeable leonine features: the powerful jaws. "Was hopin' ya wouldn't fight too hard."

The pinprick of the tip of a blade pressing into her neck was nothing compared to what happened. After a drop of blood slid down the bloodied blade, her neck was sliced open. Not in a brutal slicing motion, but a more precised cut that started from one side of her jaw to the other. It was disturbing, feeling blood gushing out quickly from the major veins in the neck, an area the Striker wasn't unfamiliar to sinking her claws into the enemy that got in her way.

She didn't notice the blood soaking into the tops she had on, nor the darkest of browns that was replacing the beige of her fur. Black dots where in her vision, gradually getting darker as the world around her started to vanish. There was no concept of time either as time slowed down. And just when she didn't think it would get worse, her limp face, soon to be stiff, was lifted up to stare blankly at the Sniper, who proceeded to place a kiss on bloodied lips. That was the last thing the Striker felt.

By the time she respawned, RED had won and a ceasefire was called. While the majority of the team were heading off to do their own thing, she just sat there in the room for a while. Trying to get her thoughts together. And only thing kept coming to mind.

Grabbing her throwing blade and a shotgun, she practically darted out of the base.

o.O.o.O

Perhaps she should've just stayed inside and try to forget what happened. Have some dinner and soothing tea. Have a smoke or even talk to someone about the most mundane things in the world, like floss.

But no. Adrenaline and anger was fueling her as she ran back towards the spot her body would be. After that stunt, there was no telling what that crazy Sniper had done to her body. Once arriving at the spot she was at last, what was pushing her had decreased in tenfold.

The bandages she wore were completely soaked with dried blood, her uniform was in shreds, scattered from the breeze that must have come through. Clumps of black/brown hair was on the ground too. But that wasn't the disturbing part

The bastard had skinned her! From the tip of her ears to her toes. Even all the way to the last wisp of the dark brown tuft of her tail.

Her body was strewn out in bundles of whites, pinks and reds. Her piercings were gone. Her ears, right nipple and between her legs were congealing with blood where the man must have ripped them out after her fur was taken care of. If she had gotten closer, she would also notice the drying blood at her toes, finger tips and entire mouth. He also stripped her of a lions natural defenses. The claws and teeth.

The sight and smell of what remained of her was too much. Really, it put her in a shocked state that she didn't notice that she was staggering back to the base. People were surprised at the normally calm woman. Some were concerned when they heard her in the bathroom, upchucking anything and everything in her stomach, bile and gastric acids following in its wake.

When she felt like there was nothing left, Nashita sat up, hazel eyes tinged with red, a snarl spreading on her face.

_Huyo shenzi atalipa!_

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Translation: That bastard will pay


End file.
